


In which Crowley is cold blooded.

by werewolve



Series: Ineffable Husbands Ficlets [5]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Canon Divergence, M/M, its what they DESERVE, they're retired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-09 17:50:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20122420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werewolve/pseuds/werewolve
Summary: he is a snake after all





	In which Crowley is cold blooded.

“Ziraaaa....” Crowley’s drawled out call for his husband could be heard from the kitchen. He sounded like a child, beginning a sentence that absolutely meant he was about to ask for something, “Angellllll....” 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, wiping his hands off on his apron and pushing the tray of biscuits he had been working on into the oven, “What is it Crowley?” 

“Come hereeeeee...” 

The Angel knew he wasn’t going to be able to say no. Both in a soft ‘who could resist that voice’ sense and in a more literal ‘Crowley will keep begging until I’m forced into the room’ sense. He pulled off the pink apron and laid it over a kitchen chair, before wandering through to the sitting room to find Crowley curled up on their sofa under a thick duvet, with the fire lit, and the cottage’s central heating on full blast. 

“You called, Ro?” 

“I’m cold.” The Demon pouted. No really, pouted, like a child. “Come here?” 

Aziraphale gave a small huff, “I’m busy, love, isn’t all of this enough?” 

“Not at all. I’m still cold.” He scrunched his nose, in that little irresistible way Aziraphale adored, and continued, “Just for a minute, until the oven bell rings?” 

“Fine, fine.” 

Aziraphale walked over to his husband, and was welcomed by Crowley opening out his arms and with them the blanket. As soon as the Angel was close, Crowley latched onto him, wrapping himself around him to absorb his heat. 

Aziraphale wasn’t just warm blooded, oh no, he was virtually his own heat generator. Crowley loved it. 

Feeling Crowley bury his head into the crook of Aziraphale’s neck from behind, the angel raised his hand to stroke the snake’s hair. 

He’d acknowledged that he’d be here a while.


End file.
